Storm Season
by dearheadlights
Summary: Sometimes the changes are subtle, the small realizations between two people. Other times, stupid, annoying cats leave magic candles that bring them about. (Soul/Maka. Rating may change).


Sometimes the changes are subtle, the small realizations between two people. Other times, stupid, annoying cats leave magic candles that bring them about. Soul/Maka. Rating may change.

Chapter 1

First Rain

The storm was brewing outside and nothing was cheering him up.

Usually, Soul enjoyed rain—hell, he'd loved thunder and lighting when he was a kid, when his days had been spent in a cavernous mansion, running through the dark rooms, pretending there were ghosts and hearing his footsteps echo against the hall. But being locked up in an apartment while it was like the damn apocalypse in Death City was starting to mess with him. Saturday's weren't meant to be spent staring at walls when everything, including the view outside, was bathed in a dingy gray.

And they were out of food.

Soul knew it was his turn to make dinner, but the thought of going to the grocery in _this_ downpour was out of the question.

He puffed out some air from between clenched teeth and repositioned himself on the couch, trying to give the lame show on TV his attention. It was some kind of sitcom with absolutely no plot to keep track of. Husband and wife fighting, a teenager on an awkward date. Absently, he wondered if they had any movies he could put in that he hadn't watched a hundred times already.

Suddenly, Soul was distracted by the sound of the door jingling before a very drenched and gloomy Maka walked through, shaking out her coat and hair in the entrance. She made a disgusted sound as she ungracefully removed her boots, splattering mud everywhere.

Soul gave her a glance, "Still raining, huh?"

Maka merely gave a grunt and walked into the living room, moving towards the couch, a heavy bag in her hand. She plopped it on the table before seating herself next to him, moving his legs out of the way.

"What's this?" Soul asked, sitting up and inspecting the bag.

"Takeout," she mumbled, "I thought you'd like eating tonight."

"Really?" he examined the contents and gave her a sharp grin, "You're the best. I can't believe you went out to get this."

Maka shrugged, unsticking her wet pigtails from her shoulders and removing the ties, "It was on the way from Papa's."

Soul gave her a wince, opening a container of rice, "How did that go?"

Maka rolled her eyes, reaching for some food herself, "How do you think? I have bruises from his hugs."

Soul smiled and stuffed his face, feeling sympathetic to her plight. Maka had been visiting Spirit every few weeks for "father daughter time", as the lunatic liked to call it. Soul knew she hated Spirit's clinginess and fervent displays of affection and that she did it grudgingly because, when all was said and done, the girl had a big heart. Soul admired that about her, knowing how insane Spirit drove her. Soul could not imagine spending any time with his family voluntarily, ever.

Maka glanced at the TV before turning to him, "I thought you'd be out with Black Star."

He took a bite of his eggroll, "He wanted to play basketball and, well…" he indicated to the window.

The girl nodded, chewing thoughtfully, "It's been so gloomy lately."

As if to emphasize her point, a groan of thunder shook outside, making the lights flicker.

"Oh great," she muttered, "Do we have flashlights?"

Soul gave her a look, "Doubt it. I think Blair left a bunch of half-used candles on top of the fridge though."

Maka sighed and made her way to the kitchen in search for them. She returned with two fat purple stumps and placed them on the table. Soul sniffed them, making a face, "Ugh, these reek. I hate that perfume-y crap."

Maka nodded in agreement, going back to her dinner, "Well, we probably won't need them."

Of course, the power went out in that moment, making the room completely dark except for the light of dusk coming in from the windows.

"Maka?"

"Yeah?"

"This is on you."

An annoyed sigh responded, "Shut up and find the matches."

Several minutes later they were sitting silently, munching by the candlelight which, it turns out, Soul was completely right about. The candles' scent was flowery and musty and the glow they were casting was odd. They gave Maka a headache.

"This is just great. Being stuck in here," she heard Soul grumble.

Maka had to agree, though she felt mildly annoyed at the weapon's tone. "You were stuck here before, you know," she retorted. It irritated Maka that he'd both pointed out the obvious in the situation and somehow made her feel like she was terrible company.

In the dim light she saw Soul lean back on the couch, seemingly finished with his meal. His face was turned towards her and Maka tried to not let herself feel riled up by his attitude, as that was becoming more and more frequent as of late, for reasons she tried not to dwell on. She knew he didn't really mean to be so gruff, deep down. She took a breath and felt the smell of Blair's candles wash over her, making her feel strange.

"So, what do you want to do?" Soul's voice seemed particularly loud to her.

"Well," she said, gathering her thoughts, "I _was _going to go to the library today…"

"Figures."

Maka's eyes narrowed, "But it's too dark out now. And what exactly is your great suggestion?"

She could see his shoulders shrug, "I don't know…I'm bored just sitting here."

Maka rolled her eyes, "Figures. You know, it wouldn't kill you to pick up a book once in a while. Find entertainment in non-cheep thrills." She didn't know why she was starting an argument, but she felt adrenaline course through her veins. _What is going on with me?_

Soul's teeth glinted in the dark, "And how does one do that in the dark? Get off it, Maka. Not all of us need to prove ourselves all the time."

She felt her anger spike, "Oh! That's rich! Coming from _Mr. Cool_!"

Soul shifted on the couch, "I _am _cool!"

"Well, announcing it every ten minutes certainly shows that!" Maka stood up, her take-out container in hand, trying to move to the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" she heard him yell, "Typical, you just hurl out accusations and storm off."

"Urgh! Shut up!"

"Great come back," Soul's voice is irate.

Maka feels like hurling a large, heavy book at his skull, "I don't know why you have to turn everything into a competition!"

Soul stands up as well, "You're joking, right? We're in competition all the fucking time! We fight _evil_."

The blonde crossed her arms, "Not against each other."

There was a short silence and Maka could practically feel his irritation coming off him in waves. His hand was rubbing the back of his neck.

"Don't we?"

Maka looked down and considered this, "I…I guess more than some."

There was another silence and Maka heard Soul groan. She looked back up.

"Why did you start this fight again?"

"I did not…" she started, but stopped abruptly. Her heart was beating frantically in her chest and she felt mildly dizzy. Just as she had that thought, Maka stumbled forward, Soul's arms the only reason she didn't topple over.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"I…" Maka shook her head and looked up at him, "Do you feel okay?"

"Huh." Soul hoisted her up, his face concerned, "Now that you mention it…"

Maka shut her eyes, "Oh god. Blair."

"What?" Soul grit his teeth.

"The candles." _Of course_ Blair would have magic candles. How she hadn't realized it earlier, Maka didn't know.

Soul didn't need any other explanation, moving away from her and towards the table, blowing out the offending objects. The instant his arms were gone, Maka felt her heartbeat slow. She tried to see him in the darkness but couldn't.

He spoke, nearer than she thought, "We should get out of here. Who knows what's in those things."

Maka nodded before realizing that he couldn't see her. "Yeah," she said, moving in the direction of the door (she hoped).

The stairwell was pitch-black as well and Maka cursed herself for not having the foresight to buy a damn flashlight for exactly situations like this. Soul stood near her (she guessed). Everything still felt strange in her brain.

"What _was_ that?" his low growl startled her, both in its volume and proximity. She felt goosebumps on her arms.

"I don't know…everything feels…"

"Stronger?"

"Mmmhmm." She turned to where she thought he was standing, "How long do you think this will last?"

Maka could practically feel him shrug in the darkness, "No clue. But I'm glad to know there's an explanation."

Maka felt her face flush, though she wasn't really sure why. He was right though and, even now away from those candles, Maka felt her emotions and senses were heightened. It certainly explained her attacking him. The realization came with a pang in her gut.

"Soul," she said, reaching her arms out.

"Ow! Watch it!"

"Sorry! I can't see—"

"Why are you hitting my face?"

"Stop moving! Let me just…" Maka's hands found what she presumed to be his chest, "Know where you are."

His voice was gruff, "I'm here. You don't need to be hitting me."

Maka rolled her eyes, "I wasn't trying to. I'm trying to apologize."

"Good work, there."

"Urgh! You are such a dick!"

"You give apologies a bad name."

Maka sighed in frustration, trying to calm her temper, "I don't know if this is Blair's magic candle, or my bad day, or your asshole-ness, but I'm finding this apology _very_ hard."

Soul gave a sigh, "Look, I'm sorry. Can we just move on?"

Maka nodded and remembered to speak, "Yeah." She stared down at the ground, trying to make out her feet in the darkness. She swore she could still smell Blair's candle and the thought made her paranoid because she wasn't sure if what she was thinking or feeling now was her or…

She looked to where she knew Soul to be and wondered if he was confused too. She could practically imagine him standing here, hands in pockets, white hair sticking out in all directions, eyes closed and the jagged line of his mouth…

Maka wondered if she really did annoy and bore him as much as he always said, or whether she was just constantly being too sensitive. She fiddled with her skirt, thinking it was strange that _she_, Maka Albarn, would be considered touchy. She fought, kicked ass, stood up to death nearly every day. She wasn't like Tsubaki, or Liz, or Patti—she wasn't _girly_. Yet, when it came to being around Soul she sometimes found herself far more emotional than she thought possible. She supposed that's what all those Maka Chop's were really all about—she just really felt everything Soul did or said more than when other people did.

Maka leaned against the wall of the stairwell, feeling its warm plaster and wished for a breeze. It was terribly warm in here. It was really the fault of Death City, with it's awful desert location. Sure it was dry most of the time, but when the storms hit they did so with a vengeance.

"You okay?" said Soul.

"Fine," she replied, mildly ashamed at how sharply she'd said it, "Are you?"

"Yeah. I can't tell if this stuff's worn off yet—if I'm thinking normally."

"Me either," she said, looking in his direction. She bit her lip, wondering if her next question was wise and deciding that it couldn't hurt, "What are you thinking?"

There was a long silence and Maka felt stupid for having asked. Of course he wouldn't tell her and it was just such a _feelings_ kind of question anyway. Too girly…not cool.

"Do you really think I'm a dick?"

Maka had not expected that. She cleared her throat, "Not really. I didn't mean—"

"Yeah you did." He gave a cold laugh that made Maka feel guilty.

"I…I know you don't mean to be."

There was another long pause before Soul replied, "Well, that's good."

Maka wished she knew what more to say without being…emotional. "I know you like to tease me and stuff. It's just…how it is." She shrugged, even though she knew he couldn't see.

"I—I don't mean anything by it."

"Yeah, I know." Maka felt her cheeks flush and was grateful for the darkness. "And I'm sorry I always…nag."

"You don't nag."

Maka rolled her eyes, "Now you're just lying."

"You don't," he protested, "You care. It's nice."

She swallowed, feeling her stomach clench, "Oh. Thanks, I guess."

"S' no problem."

Maka wondered why the air was suddenly so full of tension and what she should say next. At the same time, she didn't want to ruin the moment. She pushed herself off the wall to face him, try to say something when he interrupted her thoughts.

Soul moved from next to her, "I think I'm going to step outside for a mo—"

However, he hadn't seemed to realize that Maka'd already moved in the darkness and was standing right in front of him. He collided into her and she let out a shriek, stumbling backwards. Maka tried to catch herself, realizing that it was not flat ground behind her—it was stairs. She was going to fall backwards and she tried to grab onto Soul.

Soul, for his part, seemed to quickly get a sense of the situation and pulled her back against him, falling down in the process, Maka landing ungracefully against his abdomen.

"For the love of—"

"Damn it!" Soul said, trying to get a hold of her to help her up. Only, what he grabbed most certainly were not her arms.

The fact that he was groping Maka Albarn's breasts was a fact that took Soul a couple of moments too long to realize. One second he was feeling a tightness in his chest he couldn't explain, the next he was knocking over his meister, and now…

And how exactly, had he still not moved? Soul clenched his jaw and shoved his hands to his sides, feeling unbelievable heat in his face and cursed himself, hoping that, somehow, Maka hadn't realized what he'd done. Because that would be very very…uncool.

"Soul?"

"Nnugh."

"What?"

He shook his head, trying to clear it, "Yeah?" He felt her shift, trying to get up and he really didn't understand why his damned chest wouldn't stop tightening.

"It's fine. I know you didn't mean to."

Her attitude was surprising, and Soul nodded before realizing that she couldn't see him. He cleared his throat, "Yeah."

Maka laughed, though Soul though it sounded a bit forced. "It's not like there's much to hold on to," she joked but her voice faltered and sounded weird.

Soul had said many things that were far worse than this to her, about her chest specifically, but that the fact she was doing it to herself felt wrong. She really shouldn't think that way and the instant Soul realized what he was about to do he already regretted it.

"That's not true. They're…er, they're nice."

That's it. He was going to have to go jump off a building now. Or maybe provoke Black Star into ending his miserable life. _Why the hell is this conversation happening?_ Soul blamed the candles. No, Soul blamed _Blair_.

Because it wasn't like he was lying: her breasts were nice. Hell, he'd pondered it on a few occasions like he had with other girls. Over the course of puberty, as his whole opinion of them had switched from hormonal impulses to personal preference, Maka's chest was right up there as a prime preference…though he'd tried hard not to read into that. Most thoughts of Maka as a_ girl_ were problematic and needed to be avoided. And here he was, dumb as Black Star, wading straight into this mess.

He was really really going to slice up Blair.

"They're nice?"

Soul realized that she was still talking about this. That, despite his fervent hopes, they had not moved past this. He sat up a little straighter and felt her presence beside him, both of their backs against the wall. He swore he could hear her breathing change when he responded.

"Yeah."

There was a pause. "Then why do you always call me Tiny Tits?"

Soul looked down at his lap, though it was useless in the darkness: he couldn't see shit. He turned towards her, "I donno—cause you get riled up?"

"Huh."

Another pause.

"I can stop or whatever, if it bothers you."

He felt her shift next to him, her arm nearly touching his, "It bothered me before…why listen now?"

She really was too smart for her own good. Soul gave a growl, "Damnit, woman. Stop reading into everything."

Maka didn't respond and they were both interrupted by a flickering sound before they were bathed in far too bright, fluorescent light. In the seconds it took Soul to adjust to being blinded, he saw Maka conceal a smile. They both stood up and looked at each other, and Soul had to marvel at how different everything felt when it wasn't dark. Yet, somehow, there was a tension between them that hadn't been there before.

"Do you think it's safe?" Maka asked and it took him a moment to realize she was referring to their apartment.

"I don't know, but I'm sick of sanding in one place."

Maka's eyes looked at him for a second too long—or maybe that was Soul's imagination. The green made him fell highly aware of his limbs, and he shoved his hands into his pockets in response.

She nodded, leading the way, "Well, let's see."

The two of them stepped through the doorway.

...

* * *

A/N: This will probably be 3 parts. Hopefully you like it, but please let me know what you think either way!


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